


i want you a lot, a lot, a lot

by serasvictorian (Lucyndareads)



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyndareads/pseuds/serasvictorian
Summary: He had followed her orders for years, comforted her, advised her, admired her. And now, he ached for her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm back with another Alutegra fic! Shout out to all of you for sticking with me. This will probably be multichapter, and I'm not entirely sure what to put it in so I'm open to ideas of all kinds!
> 
> also hey... let me know if you want Integra's pov....
> 
> the song you should ABSOLUTELY link with this fic is Blood, Sweat, and Tears by BTS, which is where the title of this fic comes from. 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

Alucard loved Integra Hellsing. 

He had known that he loved her since their first meeting, since his monstrous tongue stretched to lap at her sweet blood. There was never a doubt in his mind that she would be his ruin, his undoing. No one else would do; no one had ever come close to her before and no one would ever come close to her again.

Of course when he first met her, he did not have the affection for her that he would have for a lover. Alucard had performed many a heinous act in his lifetime, but he had always been viscerally disgusted at the idea of desiring a child in any way like that Turk had so forcibly desired him. 

That particular memory was incredibly old, but some memories did not fade so easily. Despite his best efforts.

But despite the fact that it wasn’t always romantic love, his love for Integra had been present since the beginning. It had begun as the desire to nurture, to mentor. He had never gone as far as considering himself a father figure; that role was always filled by the Angel of Death (what a unique upbringing). But he had followed her orders for years, comforted her, advised her. He admired beyond all reason her composure, her boldness, her gravitas, her strength, her wisdom beyond her years. She was more fit to be a monarch and war general than he was, even when he was in his prime.

And he admired her rare acts of kindness. Integra Hellsing could be gentle, when she chose. He watched her treat the servants, including Walter, with more kindness than Arthur or Abraham ever had. And, with even more amazement, he noted her treatment of himself as far kinder than any human in their own mind had treated him since… well, perhaps since Jusztina.

Every so often she would deign to ask him whether his quarters were to his liking, or if he felt as if he was getting enough blood to keep up his strength. He would always answer affirmatively, of course; Abraham and Arthur had forcefully convinced him that a servant never asks for anything from its master. But Integra would somehow know if he were lying, and ask him again and again until he admitted that he needed more books, more blood, more sleep, anything. 

Sometimes she would call him into the library and, when they were seated in comfy chairs, ask about his life, his history, the things he’d seen. She was a voracious learner but she also seemed to enjoy his company.

At a certain point, Alucard even grew comfortable teasing his master. Jokes about her youth, her vanity concerning her hair, her proper upper-crust lifestyle. The first time he had done it, it was about her hair. Immediately following, he feared for his life. But Integra merely snorted and ribbed him right back about his wild mess of a mane, and he laughed loudly in response. 

Their relationship had only evolved from there, but it was always platonic. He loved her as a companion, and that was all.

Then, it changed.

 

* * *

 

Alucard was absent for many of his master’s meetings with the Council of Twelve; they were boring and a waste of his time. Too much talk of finances and what was ‘best for England’. 

Sometimes, however, Integra requested for him to attend and stand by her side. He had never figured out why—his master did not always give him the reasons for her orders—though his best guess was that she felt as if the Council needed reminding of the power she possessed, of the weapon that only she could wield. 

At any rate, at one such meeting Sir Integra Hellsing was at the tender yet maturing age of seventeen, and had just developed the husk in her voice that he would grow to be undyingly fond of. That morning she had informed him that he would be attending the meeting with her, and he had obeyed her with only one playful complaint that she would bore a near-immortal to death.

During the meeting, as Sir Hugh Irons spoke of a proposed tax break, Alucard was struck with the realization that one of the other councilmen that he didn’t bother to learn by name looked remarkably like a terrier. He bent down to murmur that into his master’s ear, looking forward to the slight smirk he would receive as reward. 

Instead, his master let out the oddest little sound and turned to face him, looking like he’d just shocked her. Half gasp, half moan, along with widened eyes and parted lips. It was the most outlandish sound ever to come out of her mouth, and he froze as his own eyes widened. 

They stared at each other for a moment, before Sir Irons cleared his throat and Integra blinked out of their shared trance, turning back to the table and looking somewhat sheepish. “My apologies. My servant was just alerting me of a possible problem with a ghoul we have been studying. Go take care of the situation, Alucard, and continue please, Sir Irons.” And with that, she turned away from her vampire and back to the Council. 

Alucard may not have been the smartest creature, but he could take a hint. “As you wish, my master,” he said with a large smile, bowing exaggeratedly and eyeing the various councilmen threateningly to make them squirm before phasing through the nearest wall.

As he appeared back in his gloomy chambers, he sat on his throne and replayed the encounter in his head. Whatever had come over his master?

It wasn’t illness or pain; he could tell that much by her expression. It almost looked like fear, but that was preposterous. The very idea of Integra being afraid of him made him laugh; she had never shown even the slightest aversion to him, no matter how fearsome his form was. He was on the verge of giving up the deducing when a wild possibility entered his mind, and he sat up straight in his throne at the thought. 

_Arousal_. He nearly bit through his lip at the thought. Of course it was arousal; what else could it be? Her pupils had been blown, her lips parted, her skin ever-so-slightly flushed.

As many would guess, Alucard was not the most sensible or rational creature. And he certainly did not do things by halves. Not to mention the fact that it was _Integra Hellsing_ , the master he had loved ever since he sampled her blood. So as soon as the idea entered his head—the idea of Integra as not only a consenting, sexual being but a consenting, sexual being who was lusting after him—he lost his head a little.

_She wants me,_ he thought wildly, panting on his throne as he took hold of himself and imagined his own hand was his master’s hand, mouth, body… _She wants me, she wants me. She wants me on her, in her, tasting her. She wants me, and I… I want her so badly it’s worse than bloodlust. Oh, God… I know we’ve forsaken each other, but give me this, give me this last blessing of Integra and I will happily accept the rest of my damnation._

He had followed her orders for years, comforted her, advised her, admired her. And now, he _ached_ for her. In the past, when the No-Life King was not busy fighting Hellsing’s enemies he could often be found sitting on his throne or lying in his coffin and attempting to quiet his mind. But now, if even a passing thought in his head took on the form of Integra, all hope of quiet was lost.

His torment only escalated when he heard his master summon him on a late windy evening in autumn. “Alucard.” 

He promptly teleported himself into her bedroom, only to freeze in confusion as he realized he was in her _bedroom_. She was fully clothed, sitting on the edge of her bed with her feet hanging over the edge. But they were still in her bedroom.

He had taken to ignoring where exactly she summoned him, as he trusted her implicitly. But he had never been in her bedroom before; he had never dared. He always assumed he wasn’t welcome there; Integra was an exceedingly private person and he wouldn’t dare cross her boundaries for fear of losing the fragile emotional intimacy they shared. 

But he _could_ push them a little.

“You called, my master?” he said, leering at her as he bowed. “Isn’t it approaching your bedtime? Are you in need of a lullaby, or perhaps a glass of warm milk?” 

Accustomed to his teasing, Integra merely rolled her eyes as the corners of her mouth twitched up almost imperceptibly. “No, Alucard. That is not why I bid you here.” 

She paused, and he waited patiently for her to shape her thoughts. Even if he wanted to read her mind, she had learned to shut him—and all other supernatural creatures—out at a very early age; Arthur Hellsing had taught her well before he died.

“I bid you here because I want you to kiss me.” 

Her tone was so even that the Count almost did as he was told without thinking. He even leaned in a centimeter or so before recoiling in shock, his crimson eyes going almost comically wide as he regarded the center of his world. “M-master?” 

Integra looked at his shock with her own level of surprise, and the very faintest flush appeared on her cheeks. “What?” she demanded, clearly trying to retain her cool. “What’s wrong with you? I said—“ 

“I heard what you said, Master,” Alucard replied, still regarding her with shock. “I simply—“ 

“I am not forcing you or ordering you,” Integra said quickly, suddenly looking worried. “Let me make that clear. I am asking. If you have no objections, I want you to kiss me.” 

Alucard nearly let out an incredulous chuckle; did she really think that was the cause of his astonishment? “I have no objections,” he said simply. 

“Well, then,” Integra said, drawing herself up. “Go on, then.”

Oh, how he wished he could read her mind at that moment. But he couldn’t, and so he had no choice but to acquiesce blindly, hoping for the best. “Very well, Master.”

Without another moment of hesitation—what if she changed her mind?—the Count leaned down and pressed his lips against Integra’s. He didn’t close his eyes, and she didn’t either; his gaze was wary while hers was intensely neutral. He held his position for a moment, before pulling away and standing up straight again. 

It was absurdly chaste; lacking any kind of romance. He’d seen schoolgirls kiss each other platonically with more intensity. 

And yet, it was the most sensual kiss he had experienced in his very long life. Flames licked at his lips, ignited inside him. He had to resist a groan, and pulling back was akin to torture. This woman was going to kill him.

Neither of them closed their eyes for the kiss; careful crimson met unreadable blue. Before, during, and after the kiss, Integra’s expression looked remarkably unchanged. She was barely even blushing. 

After a seemingly unending moment of silence, Alucard couldn't take it anymore. “How was it?” he said, trying to sound like he didn’t care much for whether she answered or not, let alone what her answer was.

Integra brought her hand up to her lips, touching them gently. “It was what I asked for,” she said after another moment, her tone neutral.“You may go now.” 

Alucard spent the rest of the night pouting on his throne, overindulging on bloodwine and cursing himself over and over. _I blew it,_ he thought bitterly. _She wants nothing to do with me._

Imagine his surprise when his master called him to her room not a week later, at precisely the same time of evening. He came instantly, of course, appearing to find her in the same place as last time. The edge of the bed.

This time he decided on skipping the snide remark in favor of kneeling humbly at her feet—still a respectable distance away from her, of course. “You called, Master?” 

“You know I did,” Integra said impatiently, waving her hand. “Stand up, Alucard. Stand up and kiss me again.”

Alucard was already standing up when he heard the last part of her sentence, and he was proud of himself for only freezing for a second before nodding. He had no idea what her goal was, but if it brought their lips together again he was not about to ask any questions. 

Once more, their lips touched. And once more, fire burst inside of him. And once more, the agony of separating again, of pulling back. 

This time he had closed his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. When he pulled back and opened them, he met his master’s gaze. She seemed slightly more irate this time. 

“Alucard.”

The vampire winced. _Ah, yes. That tone._ She was definitely irate. “Yes, Master?” he said warily. 

“Are you a poor kisser?” 

Integra’s irateness was forgotten in favor of wounded pride. The Count gaped for a moment, before drawing himself up and puffing out his chest, his eyes glowing and his hair moving like tendrils as the room darkened. “I have made love to noblemen, to whores, to kings and queens, Sir Hellsing. I have been called an incubus, a succubus, even the very sin of Lust itself. And you dare—“ 

“Oh, come off it,” Integra demanded, breaking off his lofty rant. “It was an honest question.” 

Alucard reluctantly deflated, his appearance and the room going back to normal. “I am an excellent kisser, Master. I’ve never had a complaint before.”

“Then why are you kissing me like we’re at a grade school dance?” Integra asked. She didn’t look angry anymore. In fact, suddenly she looked vulnerable. “I’m not a child; I wanted a real kiss. If you don’t want to kiss me, like I said, you don’t have to—“ 

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Alucard growled in exasperation and anticipation, surging forward to cup her face in his hands until there was less than an inch between their mouths.

“Whatever my master wishes,” he murmured against her lips, before pressing their mouths together and kissing her with the passion he had suppressed for so long. 

And once again the conflagration burst inside of him (If he didn’t know better, he would call it holy fire). Now with her blessing to deepen their dalliance, he quickly coaxed her mouth open so he could work his way inside of her for the first time—even if it was just with his tongue. The heat of her mouth threatened to burn him alive, and if that was how he had to die he would happily accept his fate.

Integra seemed just as taken with the kiss as he was; she had moaned in gratified surprise when he coaxed her mouth open and gradually wrapped her arms around his neck until she was pulling him close. 

They kissed and kissed and kissed. Every time Integra pulled away, Alucard prepared for the moment to be over, but his master was only catching her breath before she would murmur “Kiss me” again, and he would murmur “Yes, Master,” before surging forward once more. 

 Before he knew it he had pressed her back on the bed and worked his way between her legs, hard to the point of pain. She was still pulling him close, but her moans were turning into whimpers as he began rutting himself against her. Realizing how far this had gone, Alucard pulled away in worry. But Integra only let out a strangled moan and pulled him back. “Don’t stop,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare stop, Alucard, I’m… I need this, I need- _ah_!”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish, pressing himself back against her desperately, moaning against her mouth before sealing their lips together in a kiss. He was on fire, fire, _fire,_ and the fire was building, building so fast that he was going to be consumed. Just as he was about to warn her, her nails dug into his back and her legs locked around him. And his master, his beautiful Integra, actually cried out his name (as he had fantasized) as her body convulsed in climax. 

How could he stave off coming after that, after knowing that he had given her so much pleasure? With one more growl, he bit the pillow to her side and came, feeling a sense of bliss that he had never imagined he would be able to feel, living the cursed life that he did.

When his climax ebbed, he collapsed on top of her, making sure to distribute his weight so as not to make her uncomfortable. They lay there for a long while, their breathing evening out and their sweat cooling.

“I… I didn’t anticipate that going as far as it did,” Integra said finally, breaking the silence. After another minute: “My glasses are fogged over.”

Alucard chuckled. Leave it to Integra Hellsing to come up with the most clinical pillow talk. “My apologies, Master.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Integra snapped. “You’re not sorry.” 

“True,” Alucard admitted without shame, smiling into the sheets.

Integra sighed. “Neither am I.” He could tell from her tone that she was smiling too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps he should have been a bit less persistent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter!!! woo!!!!!
> 
> so this is based off of a headcanon I have.... I will discuss it in the end notes! Thanks for reading; hope you enjoy some fluff, smut, and angst! (the golden trio)

Alucard now considered it an honor and a privilege to be the only creature, human or otherwise, that had been allowed to see Sir Integra Hellsing come undone.

And the only creature that ever would see, if what Integra said was true. 

“You are the— _mmm_ —the only man who has held my attention, human or otherwise,” she told him. “I doubt that anyone other than you— _hnnn—_ will ever hold it again.” 

They were lying on her absurdly large bed, his back against the pillows and her back against his chest, her body between his legs. Her words were punctuated by the moans that resulted from the way he held her hair back and kissed and sucked at her neck, very careful to keep his fangs retracted. His thoughts were punctuated by the fact that while he was shirtless, she was clad only in a nightgown that terminated at her mid-thighs.

“That’s quite a thing to say, my master,” he murmured into her neck between kisses. “You are a very young woman, yet, with your whole life ahead of you.” 

“Don’t patronize me,” Integra replied, smacking him lightly on the leg. Then she sighed, nestling herself further onto his chest. “I know I am young. But I also know my own mind, and my own desires. I really can’t stand most men; they’re boring at best and rapists at worst.”

He couldn’t really argue with that statement. 

“What about you?” she said, craning her neck to look at him. “You’ve had the likes of queens and empresses in your bed. Surely you’ll tire of me, or resent me for holding your leash.” Her teasing smile communicated that she already knew the answer.

Still he growled, nuzzling into her sweet-smelling hair. “Never,” he said, his voice in a lower octave. “Those women were peasants, compared to you. No one could come close to you, my Countess. Not now, not ever. And I will follow you for as long as you will let me.” 

She chuckled, turning back around to relax against him again. “That’s what I like to hear.” Another subtle shift of her hips, and he groaned softly as her backside nudged his growing hardness. She inhaled sharply in response, and when he sniffed the air he smelled her arousal. Grinning widely, he slipped a hand under her nightgown and rubbed a precise finger over the crease in her panties. 

The effect was instantaneous; she moaned and quivered against him, bucking against his finger. “More _._ ” 

He slipped that same finger into her panties, hooking it inside her and closing his eyes in reverence at the way she clenched around him. “Master…”

This time her moan was higher pitched. “More,” she said again, grabbing his other hand and lifting it to slip under her nightgown and cup her breast. 

He slipped another finger inside her, rubbing her clit with his thumb as he massaged her breast. 

“ _More_!” she said once more, this time so high-pitched it was practically a whine. “Alucard, I need more!”

He shivered at how eager she sounded, but despite himself he looked up at the clock. “It’s late,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t want to keep you up.” 

“No, it’s— _hmm_ —fine… schedule’s open tomorrow, I don’t have to get— _hah, ah!—_ sleep tonight,” she said in a breathless soprano, squirming into his capable hands.

And their lovemaking _would_ last the entire night, because they were insatiable. Always mad for each other, always a moment away from falling into each other’s arms. And when they started, they couldn’t stop. Hours would fly by, and every time they collapsed on the sheets he would think it was the last time. But then after a while she would trail her hand lightly over his skin, and he would look at her with smoldering eyes, and he would smell her arousal once more.

Rinse and repeat.

“Is it… is it always like this?” Integra had gasped once, when they were finished with a third round and were catching their breaths, completely naked. They lay with their heads on the pillows, facing each other as he licked his fingers of her taste hungrily. She shuddered, having long given up on pretending that this act didn’t arouse her, but pressed on with her query. “Is this how it is for others? Over and over again? Is it like this?” 

Alucard thought for a moment. It was hard to think straight; he was too busy basking in the bliss of experiencing climax after climax with his master. He shook his head finally, reeling at the truth in his answer. “No, Master. It’s never like this. It’s not supposed to be like this.” 

“What’s happening, then?” she asked, reaching out to trace a thumb over one of his elongated fangs. She had a strange fascination with them which he was happy to oblige; he parted his lips for her. “I should be afraid, perhaps, but I _want you_ too much to think about anything else.” 

Her thumb brushed his lips, and it was his turn to shudder. When she pulled her hand back, he took it and kissed her palm reverently, nuzzling into her hand. “Then don’t think about anything else,” he suggested, kissing her wrist as he began working his way up her arm. 

“But-“ she began. She was unable to get anything else out, however. He had moved to her breast and was sucking at it, leaving her with only the language of moans and whimpers to communicate. 

He had never been so hungry for anything other than blood. And she was just as hungry as he was. He was perfectly happy to sate her hunger by pleasuring her in every conceivable way—barring full penetration of course. 

When he had begun servicing her in such a fashion, he had expected it to be a selfless act; giving her pleasure and receiving none in return. But the first time he had gotten her off without grinding against her, she had looked perplexed when he pulled away and adjusted himself with a groan. 

“What about you?” she said, voice breathless and husky in a manner that certainly didn’t help him suppress his arousal.

“What about me?” he replied in confusion. “Are you not pleased, my master?” 

Integra rolled her eyes, looking exasperated. “You make everything so _difficult_ , Servant,” she said before sitting up and undoing his fly with her nimble fingers. 

He ended up breaking the headboard into sawdust with how tightly he held onto it. Integra had a blissfully firm grip and a surprisingly effective technique.

Still, it was becoming apparent that they both were craving something neither of them could have. One time he was hunched over her prone figure on the bed, lapping at her cunt as if his life depended on it. She always tasted so sweet—nectar and ambrosia. Whenever she gave him the chance to taste her, he would start off slow, nibbling on her inner thighs before burying himself in her folds and relishing the way she trembled around him.

When they had first began their affair, Integra was often quite ashamed of the noises she would make when he pleasured her orally; this led to him having to coax her into uncovering her mouth and letting her delicious cries ring out freely.

Oddly enough, more than a year had passed and she was doing it again. 

“I’ve told you before; don’t be embarrassed,” he entreated, lifting his head from between her legs. “You sound beautiful.”

“I’m not embarrassed!” Integra snapped, dropping her hand briefly. “I know; you’ve told me! I just… if I don’t stop myself, I’m going to order you to take me,” she confessed breathlessly, before covering her face with her arm in embarrassment. 

Alucard closed his eyes and shuddered, the shudder ending in a dangerous growl. She was so wet for him… it would be effortless to sink into her searing heat and fuck her until they were both finally satisfied. 

And she wanted it just as badly. 

Instead, he finished her off with his mouth as she rode his face, before she used her beautiful hands—still trembling from orgasm—to stroke him to completion instead. It was good—no, it was more than good; it was blissful. But it wasn’t enough.

Neither of them voiced it. Neither of them said why they always stopped just before, just before the final step. But they both knew.

Both of them were making wild plans for their future together, as Count and Countess. Lord and Lady of the night. No Life King and Queen. 

It was unfortunate, thought Alucard, that so many of those couple’s monikers put the man first. He usually preferred the guise of a man, but Integra would always come first in his eyes.

Regardless, it went without saying that turning Integra into a vampire was out of the question for the time being. She had not asked him, therefore she did not want it yet. And he would respect her wishes. 

Around two and a half years after their affair began, the vampire woke up one evening and immediately searched for his master, as always. When he transported himself to her bedroom, he was horrified to find her in bed, a cast on her ankle and bruises on her arms. 

“Master,” he exhaled, the borrowed blood freezing in his veins. “What ha-“ 

“Calm down,” Integra said quickly, rolling her eyes. “It’s not as bad as it looks, Alucard. My horse threw me, that’s all.” 

“Why?” he snarled, eyes glowing in rage. “What’s wrong with that cursed animal?” 

“I told you to calm down,” snapped Integra, She moved to sit up a bit more and winced—instantly Alucard was by her side, anger forgotten as he helped her prop herself up among the pillows with the gentlest of hands. “Aah… fuck. Bloody ribs.” 

“Are they broken? And your leg?” Alucard wheedled, the gentle tone downright outlandish for the vampire. “Integra, how did this happen?” 

Integra shrugged. “Horses are temperamental creatures. I think a hunter’s gunshot spooked her.”

“You should have called me,” he said earnestly. “You should have ordered me to catch you, I would have-“

“Don’t be silly,” Integra said with a brisk shake of her head. “You needed to sleep. And I’m fine, really.” 

Alucard bit his lip, before grasping her hand and sinking to his knees beside her bed.

Integra did not look amused. “ _Alucard_.” 

“Master,” Alucard replied, closing his eyes and nuzzling his cheek against the hand in his grasp. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Integra exhaled wearily. “I’m going to get hurt occasionally, Alucard. It’s bound to happen. I’m only human.” 

Immediately Alucard’s eyes popped open, glowing intensely as he stood to tower over her. “But you don’t have to be.” 

This surprised his master; Integra’s eyes widened and she gaped at him for a brief moment. Then she closed her eyes. “That’s true.” Her tone was especially controlled, as if she was fighting the urge to give him the order.

He was not done yet. “I could do it, Master. Right now, right this moment. It would heal your wounds and give you vitality you couldn’t possibly imagine.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” she replied, her tone still controlled. 

“What better way to retain your power, to keep the Hellsing Organization firmly in your grip?”

She nodded, staring straight ahead and avoiding his gaze. “It would be an excellent power play.” 

He could tell she was starting to cave, starting to see the truth in his words, and he nearly went wild with excitement. “Master… will you let me? Please, let me. Let me bite you, _now_.” His fangs were elongating, saliva was building, he was so ready—

“No.” 

He froze, looking at her like a kicked puppy. "No?”

Integra nodded shortly, still avoiding his gaze. “That’s right. No. You may not bite me. I shall remain human.” 

With great effort, he forced his fangs to retract and swallowed his saliva. He nodded slowly. “Very well.” 

“For now,” Integra added, so softly he barely heard her. “It isn’t quite time for that. Now make yourself useful and let me rest on you; these pillows aren’t as comfortable as they look.” 

His sheepish expression turned into a wide grin as he obeyed, crawling into her bed so carefully that the mattress barely dipped. “Yes, my master.” 

Those two words: “For now”. She should never have said them, for now they were driving him mad. Every time he rose from sleep, the first thing he thought of was “For now.” Every day he hoped that she would give the command, and he would sink his teeth into her flesh and drink her humanity away. Every day he hoped in vain. 

He was starting to get desperate. If his master experienced so much as a paper cut, he appeared by her side, murmuring to her about the opportunities that being a near-immortal would give her. Invincibility, speed, eternal youth—and wasn’t she dreading getting old? Experiencing dementia? Wrinkles and such? 

(He really had no idea what old age was like).

But every time he tried to coax her she would always respond demurely, avoiding his gaze and replying that it wasn’t “quite time for that”. Yet another example of why he wished dearly for the ability to read her mind. 

Perhaps he should have been a bit less persistent.

One evening he had found her reading in the library, wincing at a sore neck from sleeping on it incorrectly. He had happily offered a massage, which she readily accepted, and it was as he was kneading her sore muscles that he began with his usual persuasions. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Master, ” he said after a moment. “As a vampire I haven’t ever had a single sore muscle—“ 

“Enough!” Integra suddenly demanded, closing her book with a thud. “Stop this instant and face me.” 

Alucard winced; he knew he had gone too far. “Master,” he said quickly, moving to face her. “I didn’t mean—“ 

“I don’t want to hear any more about this; do you understand?” Her voice was loud and unquestionable, and he had to force himself not to cringe away from her displeasure. “You’re driving me crazy!”

“But, Master,” he said placatingly. “I merely wanted to suggest—“

“I’m fucking sick of your begging.” Her face was flushed with anger, but beneath it... fear? _No, that couldn't be..._ “I will never become a vampire. Do you understand me?”

It felt like every word was slapping him in the face. “Yes, Master,” he whispered, unable to meet her gaze. 

 

* * *

 

Shortly after that, he turned Seras Victoria. It was both an impulsive decision made out of hurt and bitterness— _now that I have a child, I don’t need to turn you, Master_ —and an instinctive decision from the nasty feeling that something terrible was on the horizon. 

But of course Integra only saw the former reason and not the latter. He could tell she was already fond of the police girl, but was still furious at him. Out of that same hurt and bitterness, he felt the same. 

They were colder and crueler to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I was making Alucard and Integra more like they appear at the end of Ultimate rather than the beginning. This is the explanation; they had a fight which resulted in Alucard having a child to save the family (lol) 
> 
> Also, this is not even slightly a hint to Alu/Seras, so please don't take it as such. 
> 
> Thanks once again for reading! I hope to get the next chapter up in less than two weeks!


End file.
